Altoids and Pumpkin Pies
by Mac1
Summary: Things have been strained, a friendship nearly forgotten, first meetings remembered, and Thanksgiving is drawing near.
1. First Meetings

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not my property. CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Z., et al have the deeds to them.  
  
Author's Note: While I may not claim to be of any particular romantic pairing, I must confess that Catherine and Grissom are my favorite characters and I have noticed the decided lack in screen time for these two together. I don't know about anyone else, but I miss the give and take of their friendship.  
  
~Altoids and Pumpkin Pies~  
  
Part I: First meetings  
  
She's doing it again; hiding behind a mask of happiness. I know it and she knows I know it. We've known each other for so long that it is impossible for either of us to hide things from the other.  
  
We never used to be this way. I was working a case when I first met her a few weeks before she began working at the lab. We talked for a bit and I found that behind her looks was a mind of steel. I told her about an opening in the day shift lab and didn't hear from her again except for a thank-you card that showed up in my mailbox a couple weeks later.  
  
Our first meeting as actual co-workers a few years later didn't send up any fireworks. Okay, I'll be honest. We both had a strong disliking for the other; some may have called it hatred. But over the years, as we worked together and got to know each other, we changed. I'm more introverted now and she, well, she's more cautious.  
  
We didn't have the typical run-into-one-another-and-go-for-drinks-after-work meeting that some friends have. I had only heard rumors about this woman, who was as smart as she was beautiful, that had transferred from days. A few days later I literally ran into her on my way to the morgue. We were both engrossed in our own cases and BAM! We knocked the papers out of each other's hand. Neither of us said anything at first as we picked up and sorted the papers out. I think I mumbled an apology of some sort and she just glared at me.  
  
We managed not to work with each other for two months after that. Although, now I don't know why, but back then I was grateful for that. The first case we worked on was a piece of cake and took very little effort or time to solve. After that, the shift supervisor started to pair us up more often.  
  
With every case we learned something new. Sometimes it would be something about each other, but most of the time it would be something inconsequential that would later help out on another case.  
  
During the months after that first case together, we kept our distance, refusing to be anything more than co-workers. Slowly we warmed up to each other enough to become friends. It was a real rarity, at least for me, to be considered her friend in those early days. Now I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything. In many ways she reminds me that we can have a passion for our job and still have a life outside of the lab, even if I'm not totally comfortable with that idea.  
  
She shifts position on her stool reminding me that I'm not alone in the lab. We've been pouring over microscopic evidence for an hour, trying to find something to make our night more productive. I try to concentrate on the fibers before me, but I keep looking over at her, worried that the shoe will drop soon.  
  
I can tell she's tense. Something is worrying her, which worries me. The fact that she hasn't said anything to me for the last few months outside of work is starting to unnerve me. Of course it could be a taste of what I've been doing to her.  
  
She knows that there is something wrong with me. I can see it in her eyes. She's been trying to figure out the problem ever since the Haviland case. And all I've done is continually team her with anyone but me. Occasionally we work together, but only if the entire team is involved in some way.  
  
I guess I'm afraid that she'll solve the mystery before I'm ready to divulge that I have a problem. With the others I can hide it; I can keep my secret from them longer.  
  
I'll admit that I haven't exactly been the hallmark of what friends are supposed to be like where she is concerned. I've kept her in the dark about a lot of things lately. It's a wonder that she hasn't come into my office and yelled at me or anything.  
  
Trying to focus my mind on the matter at hand I mentally review this month's roster. Nick, Sara, and Warrick have Thanksgiving night off- hmm, that's strange. Catherine usually takes the family orientated holidays to be with Lindsey. I wonder why she didn't this time. 


	2. First Impressions

Part II: First Impressions  
  
I wish he would stop staring at me. It unnerves me how he just stares at one spot and never wavers; I don't think he even blinks when he gets into one of those states. It's worse than being in a staring contest with a cat.  
  
I know he's worried about me, about how I'm doing. I've told him several times that I was fine, but he knows I'm hiding the truth. I guess we've known each other for too long.  
  
Our first meeting was a tad bit unusual. I saw him exploring the parking lot near the strip. I had just gotten off work and needed some time alone so I walked along the Strip. We talked for awhile before I continued on my walk. Before I could get far, he told me about a position for a day job.  
  
At first I couldn't believe that a complete stranger was telling me about a job. In fact I almost laughed in his face. But something about how he said it made me consider it seriously. I applied for the position although it meant changing my schedule if I got the job. I sent him a card thanking him for the opportunity.  
  
We didn't meet again until after my promotion to a field investigator when I switched to the night shift. I've always been a night owl and was grateful to have a chance to work at night again. When I first started, I heard about the bug-guy, but I hadn't met him until the night I solved my first case on nights.  
  
I had just gotten the results that confirmed my suspicions and was on my way to share the results with Gary when I ran into the infamous bugman. And I really do mean ran into him. My notes just went everywhere and became mixed up with his reports. He mumbled something after he helped separate our stuff and I just glared at him before departing. I regretted that I didn't say anything to him at that moment. It was months, in fact, before we interacted with each other again.  
  
Our first case together was trying. I was still hooked on cocaine and Eddie's career wasn't gelling. I could hide my habit and the results of Eddie's temper, but my nervousness was fully evident to the guy I was working with. The case itself wasn't one that required a huge intellectual effort. Just the emotional load I was dealing with at the time was tiresome.  
  
We actually spent a lot of time talking about odd things during our cases. At one point we started a debate about blood splatter patterns for the sheer reason that it was something to occupy our minds while waiting for a particular result from the GC/MS. He, of course, had to physically prove it. We ended up finding a model head and filled it with a mixture of fake blood and hit it with a bat just to settle our debate. Most of the time our talks were kept on a professional level, but occasionally we would share personal stories.  
  
A few years later, I actually told him what precipitated my arrival in Las Vegas. To this day I only talk to my younger sister. The rest of the family disowned me essentially when I left home to follow my then boyfriend, Ricky. I arrived in Vegas after my parents made it clear that I was no longer wanted in Montana.  
  
His standing to straighten out his back brought my mind back to the task at hand. Greg was analyzing a white powder we had found at the scene. I look at my watch. It's been an hour and a half since either of us has said a word. He was staring intently into his microscope now.  
  
I know he's worried about me. I'm actually surprised that he hasn't asked me why I volunteered to work Thanksgiving this year. I take that back. I'm not too surprised. He's been withdrawing from our friendship for several months; leaving me out of the loop in a sense and that's starting to worry me.  
  
Even with our rocky meeting, we've rarely been less than honest with each other. Eventually the secrets get too heavy and we'll share with each other. I know something is weighing heavily on his heart. It's almost like he lost the passion he once had, like he's afraid he'll lose something if he shows that he is human. 


	3. Altoids and What?

Part III: Altoids and What?  
  
The silence in the room was almost deafening. Greg didn't think it was possible for the room to be so quiet with two people working in it. Not even Sara was this quiet when working with someone. It was almost a shame to interrupt the eerie tranquility of the room, but he didn't want to be on the receiving end of either one of the occupants' wrath if he didn't. He knocked on the door frame trying to attract their attention. When that didn't work, he spoke up.  
  
"Hey guys. Got those results you wanted."  
  
"God, Greg! You could've made some sort of noise to let us know you were there," Catherine said, trying to calm her heart rate. Grissom looked up from his microscope at Catherine's exclamation.  
  
Ignoring the fact that he hadn't heard anything until Catherine's voice penetrated the fog in his hearing, he asked, "What have you got, Greg."  
  
"Your mysterious white powder is a curiously strong mint known as..."  
  
"Altoids," Grissom and Catherine finished for him. Greg looked at the pair.  
  
"How... Never mind, I'm not even going to ask. But what you probably didn't know was that it was the wintergreen flavor and it had some cocaine mixed with it."  
  
"Interesting." Grissom paused for a moment considering the new information. That mixture was a rare one, in fact he could only think of one case where it came up. "Catherine, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Yeah. I'll see if he's been released, yet." Catherine left the room, her mind racing a mile a minute. It was too much of a coincidence. Grissom studied the readout Greg handed him and abruptly left the room.  
  
"Thanks a lot, Greg. Good work, Greg," Greg said to the now vacant room. He didn't expect it often, but every once in a while it would be nice to be acknowledged.  
  
"Who are you talking to, Greg?" Nick asked walking by.  
  
"No one."  
  
"Oh. Have you seen Grissom?"  
  
"Yeah. He left not more than a minute ago. I think he was headed to his office."  
  
Soft strains of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata filled his office. He didn't often play music while he was working, but from time to time he needed the recharging effects that were provided by the classical composers. This case was bringing up too many coincidences. It had all the markings of a straightforward, everyday murder investigation. But the altoids-cocaine mix changed the entire case.  
  
Catherine and he had seen this in a case years ago. It was shortly after they had warmed up to each other. A series of murders that were masked over by apparent drug overdoses. Catherine had been the first one to notice a pattern in the deaths.  
  
"Hey Gris," Catherine stood in the door waiting for a response. Grissom still had his back turned toward her and didn't look like he was going to respond anytime soon. She entered the office and closed the door. Grissom spun around quickly at the sound of his door closing to face the person he didn't want to face.  
  
"Catherine, I..."  
  
"When were you going to tell me?"  
  
This was the reason he didn't want to work with her. All it took was a little time before she pieced everything together. "I don't know."  
  
"Gil, we never hid anything from each other before."  
  
"Yes, we have."  
  
"Not like this."  
  
"This is different. This affects me, personally."  
  
"So did my habit. Gil, everything that happens isn't isolated. Before Lindsey and this job, I was a dancer and had a coke habit. Then I met you, a complete stranger, and Jimmy; things started to change for me. I was almost clean when I got involved here. I fell off the wagon and it affected my work. You saw it."  
  
"Did I?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What do you want me to say?"  
  
"It's not about what I want."  
  
"I don't know how."  
  
"Tell me the truth." 


	4. Moments of Confusion

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not my property. CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Z., et al have the deeds to them.  
  
Author's Note: I had hoped to finish this before Thanksgiving, but some of the research is taking a lot of time to work through. I hope everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday.  
  
Part IV: Moments of Confusion  
  
Nick knocked on Grissom's office door. He heard voices on the other side so he cracked the door open and stuck his head in to see who was in the room.  
  
"We'll figure out something."  
  
"You're right. Is there something wrong with knocking, Nick?"  
  
Nick looked at his boss and Catherine. They were standing close together and Grissom's arms were wrapped around Catherine's waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder stifling a laugh.  
  
"I can come back later," Nick offered beginning to back out of the office. He was starting to feel guilty about interrupting them.  
  
Grissom let go of Catherine and motioned for him to come in. "No, we were just discussing some evidence. What's up?"  
  
"Brass couldn't get a hold of either of you. He called in a 419 on Linden and twenty-first. Said something about pumpkins and Altoids."  
  
"Catherine, did you get..."  
  
"He was paroled two years ago. Good behavior."  
  
"Is he capable of good behavior?"  
  
"Parole board thought so."  
  
"Uh, guys? Who are you talking about?"  
  
Catherine and Grissom looked at him for a moment. They had both shifted their attention to the 419 and forgot that Nick was still there. Catherine looked at Grissom and waited for him to make the decision.  
  
"Catherine and I will take the 419. You, Sara, and Warrick finish working on the Dobson case. We'll fill you in later," Grissom said avoiding Nick's question. He stood up and grabbed his windbreaker. "Well, what are you waiting for?"  
  
Nick left the room, mildly upset. At first he couldn't decide whether he was mad that both of them had avoided his question, or that finding them sharing what looked like an intimate embrace had momentarily distracted him from his initial quest.  
  
"Gris, how did you miss Brass' page?" Catherine asked after a moment.  
  
"It was on vibrate and I had it in my lab jacket," he explained. "You?"  
  
"Left it in my purse when I came in today." She started to leave the room before reminding him, "Don't forget your pager, Gris."  
  
He reached into the lab coat pocket and withdrew the black object that he considered to be the most annoying device ever created by man and put it in his pants pocket.   
  
"Yes, Dear. Now don't forget your purse," he teased back and followed her out the door.  
  
"Hey, is that the Grissom I know and love making a comeback?" she asked as they walked out to the parking lot before beginning to talk about the new case. They drove off, leaving three very bewildered co-workers behind.  
  
"Okay, what was that all about?" Sara asked aloud. She, Nick, and Warrick were in the break room as Catherine and Grissom walked by teasing each other.  
  
"I don't know, but they're both hiding something," Nick responded. "I found them in his office hugging. They refused to explain the 'altoids and pumpkins' remark Brass made." Nick and Sara looked at Warrick.  
  
"Hey, don't look at me. I may have been here longer than you two, but those two have worked together for over a decade."  
  
***  
  
"Three tins of Altoids, wintergreen flavor." Grissom noted as he entered the bedroom. The green tins were on the bedside table approximately five feet from the body. At first glance it was a typical scene involving a drug overdose, but to Catherine and Grissom it was a trip back to the first year they actually worked together. 


	5. The Past Catching Up

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not my property. CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Z., et al have the deeds to them.  
  
Author's Note: I realize that Thanksgiving has passed, but life is a bit hectic as I'm counting down to the days where I join the "real world" and have even less time to work on things like this.  
  
  
Part V: The Past Catching Up  
  
The room was dark. His partner was more edgy than normal. At first he thought it was something to do with Eddie, but the evidence didn't fit that theory. She had been fine at the office. Joking with Gary and Dewey, laughing and sharing a story about Lindsey. She didn't know that he saw her, but the moment she registered his presence the walls came up. It was like she was trying to keep something out. Or maybe in?  
  
"You take the right and I'll take the left."  
  
"Right. Meet in the middle by the bed?"  
  
No response. There were days when she could feel the urge to strangle the guy swell up inside her. Gary had already taken the room pictures. "Mind if I shed light on the scene?"  
  
The light switched on as a response. She looked up and saw him looking at the bedside table intently.  
  
"Three Altoids tins."  
  
***  
  
"Think he could be behind it?"  
  
"I don't know yet. The evidence hasn't been looked at."  
  
"Evidence aside. What does your gut tell you?"  
  
Grissom set his kit down on the floor and opened it as he considered her question. He never liked to formulate a theory without looking at all the facts. In truth the scene had flashed him back to the case that he thought of as a turning point for them, both personally and professionally. "Gut says too many coincidences."  
  
And there were. The address, time it was called in, even the position of the body was exactly the same as the crime twelve years earlier. Catherine took pictures of the room, starting from the doorway and worked counter-clockwise. Grissom snapped on a pair of gloves then started to examine the right side of the room. Catherine set the camera down and started on the left.  
  
It was almost eerie in how the two cases presented themselves. Except this time she wasn't worried that Grissom would find out why she was so uneasy around him. This time she hoped that he wouldn't question her about Thanksgiving.  
  
They worked silently, cataloging fibers and lifting prints. The bed served as our meeting point, just like before. David came in before either could say anything.  
  
"You guys done with the body?" he asked breaking the long silence between them. Grissom looked at the body momentarily and did a mental check list.  
  
"Yeah, you can take it away."  
  
***  
  
"You done with the victim's body?" The coroner on the scene asked.  
  
"Yeah," I said looking at the body. The coroner bagged the body and disappeared leaving us alone again. I don't know what Jerry was thinking sending us both on this. Sure we get along with each other and we have a perfect record working together, but lately something has been wrong between us. It's like she's hiding something from everyone. "So what do you think?"  
  
She looks at me like I've been replaced by someone else. Her eyes betrayed what she was thinking. "You want me to-" I nod in the affirmative. "Right. No signs of violence. Three tins of Altoids next to the bed, one open. Victim expires in the middle of the room, head facing toward the door. What killed him?"  
  
"Drugs," I offer. While she walked through the scene, I had knelt by the table and looked at the open tin. There were ten tablets and a lot of powder in it.  
  
"Drugs? And how did you come to this conclusion, Sherlock?" I hold up the presumptive test I performed. "Oh."  
  
***  
  
"Doesn't this creep you out at all?" she asked after David left.  
  
"What do you mean?" he responded looking at the bedside table.  
  
"All the coincidences. It's like walking down memory lane." 


	6. Revelation

Part VI: Revelation  
  
"I think I've got something here," Catherine said. Grissom looked up from the table he was dusting after cataloging the tins of Altoids. So far the room had yielded very little, which in itself was something. Most of the surfaces in the room had been entirely cleaned. Catherine held up an evidence container and explained, "There's brown stuff on the carpet under the bed."  
  
"Our killer wasn't as thorough as he thought."  
  
"Get anything from the table?"  
  
"Wiped completely clean. How about you and the window?"  
  
"A few partials and I found more of our mystery substance on the sill." Catherine and Grissom stood up and packed their things. They still had half the shift to go and not much evidence to go on. Catherine sighed as she put away the camera and five rolls of film.  
  
The trip back to the lab was quiet. Catherine drove while Grissom looked out the window. Both had a lot on their minds. As they pulled into the lot Grissom looked at his companion.  
  
"Does Eddie have Lindsey this year?" He wasn't sure how to broach this subject with Catherine, but from his experience she preferred him to be straightforward.  
  
"Can this wait until later, Gris?" she asked avoiding his question. She knew he would ask, but was hoping that he would wait until the end of the shift preferably until after they figured out the case. They got out of the car, gathered the evidence, and entered the building.  
  
After dropping the evidence off at the appropriate area, Grissom headed for his office and Catherine started to go to the break room. She didn't get far when Grissom called her, "May I see you in my office, Cath?"  
  
Silently she cursed her luck. The one time she wanted him to just let something go, he didn't. She followed him to his office and waited for him to speak.  
  
"Cath, what's going on?" Grissom asked as he closed the door. Catherine stood behind him defiantly. He probably should have held off until they solved the case before asking her, but he was worried.  
  
"Nothing. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to see how the others are doing with the Dobson case."  
  
"Catherine, please? Tell me what's wrong."  
  
Catherine sighed in frustration. She could tell him that Eddie was taking Lindsey for Thanksgiving, but he would know she was lying. "Lindsey's, uh, Lindsey's grandparents want to see her."  
  
"That's a good thing, isn't it? Eddie's folks must adore her."  
  
"They're not Eddie's parents. They're mine."  
  
The pieces fell into place for Grissom. Catherine was hoping to use work as an excuse to keep from having to deal with her past.  
  
"Hey, Grissom!" Sara's voice came through the closed door before he could respond to Catherine's revelation. The door opened part way when neither replied.  
  
"Come on in, Sara," Catherine said. She was happy for the interruption. As much as she trusted Grissom, she wasn't ready to divulge the rest of what happened more than twenty years ago. Grissom's glare told her that the conversation was far from over.  
  
"What is it, Sara?"  
  
"Greg has the results of your mysterious brown stuff."  
  
"Great!" Catherine said as she left the office in search of the lab analyst.  
  
Watching her virtually run out of Grissom's office Sara asked, "What's going on between you and Catherine?"  
  
"To tell you the truth, I don't know."  
  
"Talk to her."  
  
"That's what started this." 


	7. Shock

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not my property. CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Z., et al have the deeds to them.  
  
  
Part VII: Shock  
  
"Nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, salt, sugar, and pumpkin?"  
  
"Among others. Your mystery substance is pumpkin pie. Without the crust, of course." Greg handed Catherine the readout as he spoke. Catherine tucked a few strands behind her ear.  
  
"Altoids and pumpkins. It's his signature."  
  
"Whose signature?" Nick asked walking into the lab.  
  
"Noel Gray. He was put away about ten years ago for possession, got out on probation two years ago," Catherine explained. "Listen, Nick, Grissom and I are going to be concentrating on this case. Do you think you guys can handle anything that comes in tonight?"  
  
"Yeah. No problem. Sara and Warrick are in the morgue with David working on the Dobson stuff; I'm tracking down fingerprints."  
  
"Thanks, Nick." Catherine took the chromatogram from Greg's hand and left the lab. She wanted to be alone for a little bit, but the only place she could get any chance of solitude was Grissom's office and that wasn't a good option at the moment. She walked to the break room and sat down at the table. Grissom's crossword puzzle from the previous day was only half finished. She picked up a pen and scanned the clues to see if she could help him out.  
  
------  
  
Grissom went to the morgue partially hoping to find Catherine there; instead he found Sara and Warrick talking to David outside the morgue. Doc Robbins called to him from inside the studio.  
  
"What have we got?"  
  
"Ted Wilks. No external clues as to how he died, but upon further examination I can faithfully exclude drug overdose." Al Robbins spoke as he put up x-rays taken from the body on the table. "I'm waiting for the toxicology report on his stomach contents, but from my examination I'd say he died as a result of anaphylactic shock."  
  
"Anaphylactic shock? Catherine and I found drugs at the scene as well as an unidentified substance."  
  
"That would account for the drugs I found in his blood, but there wasn't enough to kill a rat, much less a human being."  
  
"Thanks, Al." Grissom paused for a moment. "If you see Catherine, tell her I need to see her."  
  
"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Catherine's voice asked cheerfully. Grissom slowly turned to face her as he realized that she wasn't angry with him anymore. His eyes silently asked if they were ok and she only smiled at him. "I ran into Jesse on my way down. The victim had some remnants of altoids laced with cocaine. He also had some pumpkin pie which led to his death."  
  
"Pumpkin pie?" Grissom asked as she handed him Greg's findings as well as the toxicology report.  
  
"Yep. That's what our mysterious brown stuff was as well." Catherine waited for a few moments as Grissom looked through the reports. When he finished, they told the coroner thanks and headed to Grissom's office to discuss the new evidence. Doc Robbins didn't have any evidence that conclusively proved that their victim was murdered.  
  
"We're going to have to close the file," Grissom said as they entered his office. There just wasn't any evidence to support a claim of murder.  
  
"I know." Catherine didn't like it, but all they had was circumstantial evidence. Just because a minute amount of drugs was found on the scene didn't mean there was foul play involved. Before Grissom could say anything Catherine apologized, "I'm sorry."  
  
"About what?" Grissom was confused. There wasn't anything that she should be apologizing for. He looked at his best friend expectantly.  
  
"Today, this past week. You pick. I haven't exactly been the easiest person to be around lately."  
  
"Cath, how long have we been friends?"  
  
"I don't know, ten years or so. Why?"  
  
Grissom could count the number of times he had heard her talk about her parents since they met on one hand. "I was thinking that in the last ten years, you've never really mentioned your family apart from your sister."  
  
Yeah, and?"  
  
"Why are they suddenly taking interest in Lindsey? She's nine years old and probably doesn't even know they exist, so why now?"  
  
"I don't know how to answer that."  
  
"Tell me the truth." Grissom looked at her, daring her to not answer.  
  
"Are you sure you want the truth?" When no answer came she continued, "They've known about Lindsey since I found out I was pregnant. They wanted us to go up and visit them, but I always found an excuse not to travel. Now that I'm officially divorced and 'alone,' they want to come down and have a family diner."  
  
"Isn't that what you wanted?"  
  
"I guess, but part of me still resents that they didn't care that I had realized the mistake I made and came home. We don't talk very much; Rachel keeps me up to date when we have dinner on the weekends, but that's about it." Catherine felt better having told him what was going on, but she was still unsure whether he would let it go now.   
  
She was almost eighteen when she left Montana for good. A lot of things had changed during her yearlong absence. The ranch had been sold and her parents were living in town. At first things were good, but she found that her parents no longer wanted to deal with her. In one argument her mom had said that she was a grown up and should get her own life. So she did.  
  
"Cath, I've never known you to back away from a fight."  
  
"I know. I," she paused. Everyone had skeletons in their closets; most of hers had been shaken out and revealed, but this was one that she didn't want everyone to know about. It was hard enough that Grissom knew it. "I don't know if I can let go of the hurt they caused, even for Lindsey's sake." 


	8. Pumpkin Pies

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not my property. CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Z., et al have the deeds to them.  
  
Author's Note: I guess I should hold up my end of the bargain, eh? Many, many thanks to Angie for beta-ing my story. A Dutch meal (referenced as "Dutch style" in the story) is really something known as being Pennsylvania Dutch and involves eating desert before the meal.  
  
Part VIII: Pumpkin Pies  
  
Grissom watched as the strong woman before him looked down at her hands like a wounded child. She had managed to stand up straight carrying a load that would crush most people, but he never guessed that the hurt she hid from everyone was rooted in her time before she even came to Vegas. He got up from behind his desk knelt before her.  
  
Taking her hand in his, he whispered, "Catherine, if you want me to, I can call you from dinner early." He could see her smile a little, but she refused to look at him. "Or maybe I can be there as deflector until our shift starts."  
  
The offer was so out of character for him that Catherine looked up into his face in shock. She saw the concern in his face. She started to smile at the thought of Grissom in a house of mainly women. Half of them, if her sister could be believed, would try to ascertain what his relationship with her was. "Serious?"  
  
"Yeah. You going to be okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Thanks."  
  
"Let's get this paperwork finished and see what the others have been up to. Then we'll go out for some breakfast, Dutch style."  
  
"Pumpkin or Apple?"  
  
Grissom smiled as he typed up the start of the report. "Pumpkin, of course."  
  
Catherine laughed and sorted through her part of the report. They worked for the next two hours getting some of the paperwork that had accumulated on his desk out of the way. They were interrupted several times by members of the night shift and finally Grissom decided to call a meeting to get updates from every one.  
  
Sara had cracked the Dobson case and Nathaniel Grayson was in custody. Catherine filled everyone in on their case concluding that it was an accidental death by pumpkin pie. The rest of the shift was quiet, allowing the team to catch up on reports. The end of the shift came quickly for all.  
  
Grissom popped his head into the break room, catching Catherine working on the last of his crossword puzzle. "Finished with your paperwork?"  
  
"Thought I would try your method of winding down before leaving," she replied not taking her eyes off the paper in front of her. She scribbled an answer then took a sip of the sludge they affectionately called coffee.  
  
"Is it working?"  
  
Catherine put the paper down and sighed. "No, but it was perfect for working out my anger and frustration earlier. You ready to leave?"  
  
"Yeah. I know it's early, but why don't you head on home and see Linds. We can meet at the place around eight."  
  
"Okay." Catherine took her cup to the sink and washed it out. As she headed out to the locker room she handed him the puzzle she was working on. "Thanks. See if you can figure out 59-across."  
  
Grissom looked down at the puzzle that was filled in both his and Catherine's handwriting. The clue for 59-across read 'an affectionate nickname for an entomologist.' When she reappeared in the hallway he called after her, "Very funny, Catherine."  
  
Catherine smiled and mouthed something back to him, but he didn't catch it as at that moment Nick walked in between them followed closely by Warrick and Sara. He took a pen from his pocket and filled in the three missing letters to form the answer: bugman. He put the paper into the recycling bin and left the building as the dayshift personnel arrived.  
  
The last time they had gone Dutch was during the last case involving cocaine and altoids. He had finally managed to ask what was bothering her. When she admitted the problem, he was stunned to say the least. The department policy at the time was to report such things, but he couldn't bring himself to. Instead he worked with her as often as possible and even took it upon himself to check up on her when she was off. It took four full years, and some very hellish weeks for her to completely kick the habit. It wasn't until the year that Eddie left her for another woman that Catherine finally kicked the habit for good, but during those years they formed a bond that would never be broken; although, they each had tried to over the years through different circumstances, but failed each time. 


	9. Going Dutch

Part IX: Going Dutch  
  
The place was unusually crowded for the time of day they had chosen. He hoped that Catherine would be able to find him in the crowd. This was the first time in over ten years that they had done this. Sure they ate breakfast together on occasion, but that was usually at his place when they ended up working a little overtime. Going out was a way for both of them to do something different without any awkward moments that happen on dates. Although he fully admitted that the awkward moments were primarily his problem.  
  
Catherine sat out in the parking lot. Things had changed a lot since they last came here. She wondered if she could find Grissom in the crowd. Anyone who didn't know him would probably think it was easy to spot his 5'10" frame in a restaurant filled with children, but he had this ability to just blend into the background. She stepped out of her car and entered the eatery.  
  
The din assaulted her ears as she stood in the front area trying to find Grissom. She spotted him in the back staring into the fish tank next to him. Part of her wished she could just stare at something without being disturbed by the sounds around her, but another part didn't think she could handle the world suddenly going silent.  
  
The hand on his shoulder startled him. He hadn't even noticed that the restaurant had gotten quiet. He looked up at the owner of the hand and smiled. "Hey, you found me."  
  
"Yeah, sorry it took me so long. You blended in with the fish tank."  
  
Grissom chuckled. This was what their relationship was about. Good friends that knew everything about each other and things were always changing between them. "I thought it only fitting. Last time you were the one hiding by the back wall, next to the pinball machine."  
  
"It was less crowded there," Catherine defended. "It wasn't my fault that I forgot that the pinball tournament was just about to start." Grissom laughed and was joined shortly by her. They were still chuckling when the waitress arrived to take their orders.  
  
They looked so comfortable with each other. The waitress almost didn't want to disturb them, but the guy had been here for twenty minutes waiting for her. "Welcome to Untitled. My name is Aevian and I'll your server today." She paused to give the couple a moment to collect themselves. "Are you ready to order?"  
  
Grissom looked at Catherine before speaking up. "Two warm eggnogs and a pumpkin pie."  
  
"A whole pie?" Aevian asked skeptically. When both shook their heads in the affirmative, she wrote it down and left, returning moments later with some water.  
  
After the food and beverages arrived they ate in silence for a while. Catherine was the first to break the not so quiet silence between them. "Do you really want to come to Thanksgiving with Lindsey and me?"  
  
Grissom hadn't really thought about it since he offered. At the time he was trying to get her to look at him and tell him that she was all right. But now he found that he liked the idea of sharing the entire holiday with her. Catherine started to worry that he wasn't going to answer and was about to tell him to forget it when he found his voice. "Yeah, I do."  
  
Catherine smiled shyly at the thought of Grissom, her best friend and boss, acting as her protector. She just hoped that everything would go smoothly. Deciding that it would be best if she tried to prepare him for her family, she began going over everything that Rachel had told her about their aunts and cousins. An hour and a half later they decided that it was time to leave the restaurant.  
  
"Cath, I want you to try something for me," Grissom set the carryout box that contained his portion of the left over pie on the roof of his car and opened a silver container. Catherine, although knowing better than to blindly taste something that Grissom offered, took a piece of translucent candy from the tin and popped it into her mouth. Moments later she made a face as the sourness of the candy registered. Grissom got into his car quickly to protect himself and laughed as he rolled down his window.  
  
"Gotcha!" He tossed Catherine the silver tin before taking off. She looked at it and had to laugh. The last time they ate here, she introduced him to the peppermint flavor of Altoids by innocently asking if he wanted a mint. He paid her pack with the same trick essentially and she had walked right into it. She pocketed the tin of Citrus Sours and got into her car. As she drove home, she thought of ways to get back at him. 


End file.
